Behind Green Eyes

Hermione's face lit up when Harry announced he was ready to go and meet Dumbledore. In reality he expected the encounter to be more a confrontation than a meeting, but he would nonetheless go and speak with the Headmaster.

'What do you plan to tell him?' Asked Ron with a quick glance towards Harry's scarred hand.

Harry noticed his look and pulled his sleeve over his hand. Of course, if Snape was aware of the wound, Dumbledore was too. But Harry was determined to not mention it.

'Well obviously, he will tell him about his scar, won't you Harry?' Replied Hermione with bright eyes.

Harry nodded, feeling a bit nervous. No, he didn't want a confrontation. He just wanted the truth. He deserved it.

'You might try to slip in a question or two about what the Order is doing about Voldemort,' added Ron while leading the way towards the Gargoyle.

'I definitely will,' said Harry with a tight throat.

Hermione seemed to realise his discomfort as she gently squeezed his arm.

The corridor leading to the entrance to Dumbledore's office was empty. With the restrictions from the Inquisitor, it was almost impossible to wander in the castle without a good reason. Harry grasped the letter in his pocket. Hopefully, it would be enough should they be spotted by one of her spies.

'Well, this is it mate,' said Ron with an encouraging voice as they were arriving in front of the Gargoyle. As both of him and Hermione were prefects – Harry felt a pinch in his heart – they didn't need a special reason to be in the corridors. He looked at the cold face of the statue and took a small breath. All his thoughts were colliding in his mind.

What would they talk about?

Cedric? Voldemort? Should he tell everything he had learnt about Tom… Voldemort's weakness? Should he reveal he was a monster? The vessel of one of the Dark Lord's soul shards.

"I must not tell lies."

A wave of anger replaced his anxious feeling. Or maybe they could talk about Umbridge. Why had Dumbledore let such an evil creature within the school walls? Why was Dumbledore letting helplessly his Home being torn apart?

He heard in the distance Hermione whispering the password to the Gargoyle so she would let him pass, and as his friends were leaving, he took a few deep breaths to repress his growing anger. Whatever was about to happen, he would need to keep his thoughts in check if he wanted a tiny chance to control the outcome of the meeting. Dumbledore was probably well versed in mind magic and if he wanted to keep his secrets from himself, he would need to remain calm.

Dumbledore observed the young man enter his office. He still looked tired but was in a way better condition than the last time he had seen him. He blinked, remembering the motionless body he had carried towards the infirmary and the upheaval it had caused him even though he had not shown it. He had always cared about Harry. But that night, he had discovered how much he meant to him. The brief sound of the door closing drew him out of his thoughts, and he noticed the boy was gazing at him. He didn't meet Harry's look, fearing what he could meet in those eyes, but he had the time to discern his resolve and… doubt? What was Harry doubting about?

'Good evening, Harry,' he greeted with a welcoming tone that gave no hint of his worries. 'Please make yourself comfortable,' he added while gesturing towards the armchair facing his desk. 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'No Sir, I am fine,' replied Harry while taking the offered seat.

''I trust you recovered well?' Asked the Headmaster with a soft voice.

Harry nodded and once he was correctly installed in the chair, he looked up, ready to ask his question. However, a detail alerted him. He was too used to the electric blue eyes gazing at him to notice that, tonight, they were not. The were turned in his direction, but they were observing a point that Harry estimated to be near his right temple. He resisted the urge to glance behind him to check what Dumbledore was fixating, as he knew all too well that he wouldn't find anything. Dumbledore was avoiding his look, and he had no idea why.

'I hope you had no issues finding your way to my office,' continued the Headmaster, filling the silence.

'It sure has been a long time Sir,' replied Harry almost immediately. The word has left his lips before he had time to think about them, and it startled him. What the Hell?! This isn't what he wanted to say! Such insolence was normally reserved for the Dursleys, Malfoy or Snape.

'I'm sorry,' he added immediately. 'I… no I had no issues coming here tonight.'

Dumbledore was very interested by Harry's outburst. When he had seen the young boy enter his office, he had hoped that he was wrong. Maybe the connection wasn't as bad as he thought. But hearing Harry's answer confirmed his suspicions. Harry had multiple reason to be nervous this year. He was one of those reasons. But this lingering wrath wasn't Harry's. He could still send the boy back in his dorm after a small chit-chat that would hopefully ease Harry a bit. Or he could follow Minerva's advice. It was time to poke the boy.

'How has been school so far?' He asked on a pleasant tone like they were about to have a nice conversation around tea and biscuits.

'Huh… Not so bad, I guess,' answered Harry a bit lost. The Headmaster hadn't made him come here tonight to ask him about his lessons, had he?

'Excuse me, Sir,' he said in a voice he tried to steady. 'But am I here to talk about my grades and classes?'

'Why are there any other matters you would like to talk about?'

'Well, huh…' And there he was stuttering again. 'I don't know Sir. Perhaps we could discuss why I had to wait until early December to see you at last!'

The Headmaster stood quiet and Harry was starting to find that Dumbledore avoiding his eyes was really annoying.

'I reckon I could have organized our encounter a bit earlier,' said Dumbledore like he was granting Harry a fair point. 'Now please tell me, my boy, what are the reasons that led you to accept my invitation tonight?'

'I wanted to see you,' thought Harry. But this time he didn't allow the words to be voiced out loud.

'At the end of my first year,' he began with a voice as calm as possible, 'I asked you why Voldemort had wanted to kill me when I was a baby. You told me then that you couldn't answer me as I wasn't ready.'

'I did,' agreed Dumbledore. Harry waited for the Headmaster to add something but nothing came.

'Well, I think I am now,' replied Harry with an aggressive tone. He saw Dumbledore raise one of his eyebrows. Deep inside himself, he felt something crawling. Something really disturbing. He was about to defend his statement when the clear voice of the Headmaster rose in the office.

'I agree with you, Harry. I think that you've proven yourself more than enough.'

'So… are you going to answer my question?' Asked Harry bewildered. The strange feeling was suddenly gone.

Dumbledore had seen what he had feared in the depth of Harry's eyes. The monster was here, waiting patiently for an opening. If Dumbledore was careless, he would end up hurting the boy, perhaps even destroying him, and giving Voldemort information. He stood up and placed his hands on his desk. He highly disliked what he was about to do, as it was going against his strategic nature, but the boy needed him to stand up. It was time to poke the monster.

'As I stated then,' he started, his eyes fixated on the polished wood of his desk, 'truth is a terrible thing. And tonight, it won't be beautiful. I am afraid we will have to not be as cautious as I would have wanted us to be about it.'

'What do you mean, Si…?' As soon as his words left his lips, Dumbledore raised his piercing look on him. The sensation of being observed in the depths of his being filled him.

The thing inside him rose again, more powerful than ever, like a snake rearing to attack. He stood up suddenly, breathless. Dumbledore did not budge. Harry felt a feral urge overwhelming him. The little clarity of mind he had left made him realise that something serious was happening. His thoughts, his desires, his needs were no longer his own. His questions about Voldemort, the fact he was an Horcrux, all his doubts didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the old wizard scrutinizing him from the other side of the desk. He was about to lunge when Dumbledore looked away and, as suddenly as the sensation had seized Harry, it vanished.

Feverishly, he put his hands on the desk to lean on. But before he had the time to gather himself, a voice rose from behind him. A voice he abhorred.

'Hem, hem!'

Dumbledore straightened up. He had wondered how long he could keep her in the dark about the meeting he just had with Harry and realised that it hadn't been long enough. He would need to be more cautious next time.

'I didn't know simple students could require a one-on-one with the Headmaster,' said Umbridge with a silky voice. 'Would you care to enlighten me about the purpose of this meeting?' Her smile grew.

'Nothing more than a Headmaster concerned about the grades of one of his students,' replied Dumbledore sharply.

'Isn't that the prerogative of the Head of his House?' Asked innocently Umbridge.

'It usually is the case,' admitted Dumbledore with a polite smile. 'However, if the student's grades deteriorate abnormally, a special care can be given.'

Umbridge's gaze hardened briefly, and she scribbled something in her notebook. This little discussion had allowed Harry to gain most of his composure back. At least enough to face her, should he need to answer questions. Fortunately, she wasn't the least bit interested in him. She approached the desk until she was near where Harry stood so she could directly face the Headmaster.

'I suppose that as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, this kind special case falls under my responsibility,' said the woman with a cruel smile. 'Would you be so kind to prepare a handover for me so I can continue your work with the troubled student?'

'You suppose well,' replied Dumbledore. 'But I am happy to tell you that this won't be necessary as it seems that Harry just needed a warning. He is determined to regain his seriousness in his studies, aren't you Harry?'

As naturally as possible, Harry turned slightly in her direction and took his most sincere tone.

'Professor Dumbledore is right. I underestimated the amount of work I needed to put up to succeed this year. It won't happen again.'

'I believe you,' replied Umbridge, her smile wider than ever. 'After all, you know how much I hate liars.'

As imperceptible as it was, Harry sensed the change in Dumbledore's aura. It was sudden and short, but for a brief moment Harry was certain the Headmaster had felt the ferocious urge he had experienced moments ago. Umbridge didn't notice anything as, when she turned towards Dumbledore again, his look was conveying nothing else than his usual serenity and politeness.

'All is well then,' said Umbridge, sounding delighted. 'Then I suggest that Mr. Potter goes back to his dormitory.'

Harry nodded and ran off before she changed her decision. When the Gargoyle closed the path behind him, he felt his frustration growing. He had gone to Dumbledore for answers and had left with more questions. But the worst was that Dumbledore had wanted to answer him. This giant toad of a woman had ruined everything, again. He refrained a groan of anger and started to head towards the stairs. However, there was something else bothering him. He still didn't understand what had happened when he had crossed Dumbledore's eyes. Whatever it was, he was sure that the Headmaster had expected it. He had provoked it. Why? Did Dumbledore know about his "condition"? Could the Horcrux be the cause of the rage he had felt?

He needed answers or at least some guidance about the uncertainties in which in was drowning. It was almost unconsciously that his steps took the direction of the girl's lavatory on the second floor.